


House of Mirrors

by magnetar



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Artists, Blow Jobs, London, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Rimming, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved, an unnecessary amount of cats, background Poe Dameron/Finn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetar/pseuds/magnetar
Summary: Kylo Ren is jobless, homeless and friendless until Poe Dameron offers him a place to stay at his flat. It's the perfect deal except for one small thing - Poe's roommate is Armitage Hux. And then there's the small problem of the two of them having to share a bed.





	House of Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparetime_when](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparetime_when/gifts).



> hey! I hope you all enjoy this, please let me know if you spot any mistakes etc <3 the rating and tags are for future chapters!

The building is nice. Suspiciously nice.

 

It’s old, Georgian by the looks of it - built from neat grey bricks and stretching four stories up towards the sky. It’s well kept too; a little gate separating it from the street and even fucking window boxes, each overflowing with a rainbow of little flowers that Kylo can’t name.

 

Kylo can’t help but feel out of place as he steps up to the door and examines the little intercom system. His Doc Martens aren’t artfully scuffed like some of the trendy young things he’d shuffled passed on the street. Instead the sole of his shoe is literally peeling away from the boot, still caked in mud from the downpour of rain a few days ago. His t-shirt has seen better days, having shrunk when he’d taken it to a shitty (but most importantly cheap) laundrette, and his hair is heavy with grease. He needs a shower and not in an aesthetic Instagram worthy way. He fucking stinks. This is a place for nice people - business people, rich people not for him.

 

This was a terrible idea he decides as he presses the button for Flat 2. But he doesn’t exactly have a choice here. This is beyond his last hope, after all.

 

‘Yes?’ The voice that answers is tinny and muffled, coming out through a tiny silver speaker.

 

Kylo leans in closer to the intercom, licking his lips nervously. He’s come this far and still isn’t sure exactly what he should say. ‘Hello. I’m, um… well, you see… I talked to-...’

 

‘Hurry up, will you? I don’t have all day!’ The voice snaps back, cutting Kylo off.

 

‘It’s Kylo Ren. I’m your new roommate?’ He adds the last part hopefully. Kylo’s not entirely sure whether sofa surfing rent-free because he’s homeless, jobless and friendless counts as being a ‘roommate’ exactly, but it sounds a little less desperate he supposes.

 

‘Hold please,’ the voice replies after a moment. The intercom must be broken, Kylo thinks because the line hasn’t gone dead - he can hear muffled voices and even through the shitty speaker he can tell that one of them is shouting, although he can’t make out what’s being said.

 

This muffled argument goes on for a few moments and Kylo is honestly starting to lose hope. It would be just like Poe Dameron, after all, Kylo thinks, to not have informed his other roommate that he’d offered up their flat - probably clean and tidy, in an expensive neighbourhood, to someone… well someone like Kylo. Kylo who’d probably track dirt into their cream carpets, leave dirty handprints on the walls and block the drain in the shower with hair.

 

He shouldn’t have got his hopes up. What had he been thinking?

 

Kylo’s just turning, hitching his backpack up onto his shoulder again and trying to think of where he can shelter from the biting March chill that’s currently sinking beneath his thin hoodie - when he hears a tell-tale click. The door is open when he tries the handle, barely daring to breathe, and the intercom is silent.

 

He does, indeed, track dirt into the carpet - leaving at least four huge, dark and ominous footprints behind him. But it’s on the stairs instead of inside Poe’s flat so Kylo figures that it could be worse. Anyway, the kind of person who thinks carpeted communal stairs are a good idea probably deserves it, Kylo thinks morosely as he reaches the second floor.

 

There it is, waiting for him. The door, with a smart little two made of metal perched in the centre of it. Like a final boss. Kylo takes a deep breath, letting his chest fully expand and his eyes slip closed in an attempt to centre himself. He’s Kylo Ren, this should not be as intimidating as he’s making it. Kylo Ren does not get scared. He tries to summon a spark of anger instead, thinking about the hipsters he’d had to stand next to on the tube and the last time he’d stubbed his toe. Anything to get this trembling, weak feeling away. But before he can reach out and knock at the door it swings open. Kylo suddenly finds himself face-to-face with a shock of pale ginger hair that’s slick with gel.

 

_Shit._

 

‘Oh, uh, hi Hux...,’ Kylo stutters, fully aware that he’s staring in horror but unable to look away. Like a car crash. ‘Poe didn’t-,’

 

‘No. He didn’t, did he?’ Armitage Hux says curtly, cutting Kylo off once again. Kylo closes his mouth with a click, clenching his teeth together.

_Shit._

 

Things with Hux have never been easy, which is the understatement of the century really. He and Hux barely know each other; they have only ever met up a handful of times because of their mutual friends Poe and Phasma. And those were enough to demonstrate that the two of them shouldn’t be allowed within 100 yards of each other, let alone a 800 square foot two bedroom flat.

 

And yet here he stands; pale skin, precisely styled hair and severe expression all bundled up in a soft, oversized, pink fuzzy jumper that’s almost down to his skinny jean covered knees and rolled up into twin pink bundles that resemble tires around his elbows. Faced with such an enemy, sleeping at the bus stop is looking more and more appealing. Because it’s not just that they don’t get on. Their arguments are legendary. If they don’t get a lifetime ban from somewhere, then that’s a good day.

 

No, worse than that, is the way that Kylo can’t ever quite take his eyes off Hux - can’t look away from that ridiculous ramrod straight posture, can’t help but track the strong but delicate line of Hux’s jaw, or smile along to Hux’s absurd fits of self-importance, at the same time as it annoys him. Maybe because Hux annoys him. Whatever it is, Kylo can’t deny the feelings spreading like weeds around his heart - so cloying that they knock the breath out of him.

 

No, no, he can’t stay here. Not confined within these four walls with Armitage Hux who hates his guts. Except… Except that Kylo still can’t quite shake the cold from his bones even by midday. Except he can’t stand another day of feeling so dirty. Except he wants to eat a hot meal, just one. Fuck, he needs this to work out so badly. He wishes that Poe’s only roommate didn’t have to be Armitage Hux. He wishes that Poe had at least given him some kind of pre-warning. Would he have still agreed to it then? Probably not. And that speaks volumes for Poe’s careful avoidance of the subject of roommates. He grunts, suddenly annoyed. Fucking Poe, looking out for him, knowing what’s best for him. Shit. 

 

‘Kylo!’ Poe’s voice, warm and welcoming like the first rays of sunlight at dawn, rings out from somewhere inside the flat, dispelling the first few tendrils of darkness that have started to thread their way through Kylo’s chest. ‘Come in, come in!’ Poe finally appears from a door at the end of the hallway, hair obviously damp and tousled and followed by a cloud of steam.

 

Hux clucks his tongue and mutters under his breath at the sight but seems to restrain himself from taking any further action. Kylo eyes Hux warily, worried that if he takes a step forward over the threshold Hux will slam the door in his face. Or something else. Like a fist.

 

Hux seems to notice Kylo’s worried look after a long moment, as he makes a big show of rolling his eyes and stepping to one side so that Kylo has space to squeeze past him. That’s when Kylo notices that there’s a cat in his arms like Hux is some kind of supervillain. This one is ginger, though, instead of the cliché white and is looking at Kylo with as much disgust as her owner.

 

‘Get in here, I need to shut the door or the cats will get out,’ Hux snaps as the ginger cat wiggles restlessly in his grip.

 

Kylo takes a deep breath, summoning his earlier confidence once again and steps inside. There is no door or fist immediately aimed at his face, so Kylo takes that as a success and begins carefully toeing off his shoes - trying desperately to disguise the fact that they’re literally falling to pieces in front of Hux. He already feels humiliated enough.

 

Poe reappears from another room, hair slightly less tousled and lips upturned into a warm smile. Kylo feels his anxiety melt away at the sight, as Poe clasps his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

 

‘I said that Kylo could stay with us for a bit, Hux,’ Poe says casually, moving away towards what Kylo can see is a small kitchen with a tiny dining table pushed up against one wall. Such is the London life, he supposes.

 

‘Adopting more strays?’ Hux says and Kylo doesn’t miss the glance he aims at Poe, one eyebrow cocked. Disapproving.

 

Poe, of course, isn’t paying attention and Hux huffs, turning his gaze up towards the ceiling instead. And Kylo can’t help but smirk, despite the tension that’s thick in the air. It’s childish but seeing Hux experience any form of minor inconvenience is an instant dopamine hit of petty revenge.

 

Kylo sets his backpack down in the hallway next to his shoes and follows Poe into the kitchen, wanting to escape Hux’s glare. He makes a beeline for the table and flops down into one of the rickety chairs, suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. He starts to see Hux’s point, though. For such a tiny flat there are certainly a lot of cats - a black one sat up on the counter next to where Poe is poking around in a cupboard, two greys asleep together in a bed pushed up against the radiator in the corner and a tiny tortoiseshell picking through a food bowl.

 

‘Poe…,’ he says awkwardly, trying to fill the silence.

 

‘Yeah?’ Poe looks up from where he’s chucking two teabags of dubious origin into a floral-patterned teapot, stroking the black cat absentmindedly with his free hand.

 

Kylo tries to think of something, anything to talk to Poe about. Normally Poe is the one leading the conversation between them, glossing over any awkward fumbles Kylo makes and filling any pauses. But here in his own space, Poe seems a little quieter, a little less ‘larger than life’.

 

‘How come I don’t see you at the gym anymore?’ Kylo lands on finally, resting his elbows on the table and staring at a point of sky he can see out of the tiny window at the end of the room. It seems a safe enough topic to Kylo.

 

‘Sort of lost the motivation,’ Poe laughs after a moment, patting a hand over his soft stomach. Kylo can hear Hux snort from somewhere else in the flat and then the ominous pads of approaching feet. Ah, Kylo thinks grimly, an inside joke that he’ll no doubt have no clue how to figure out.

 

‘They’re dating now,’ Hux supplies as he steps into the little kitchen. As if those three words explain everything. Kylo feels a crease forming between his brows as Poe slams a mug of pale looking tea down on the table in front of him. He still takes a sip dutifully, glad of the way that it burns all the way down his throat - warming his cold bones from the inside out.

 

‘You remember Finn, don’t you Kylo?’ Poe says as he slides into the seat across from Kylo, taking a long gulp from his own steaming mug of tea. ‘Well, he might have been the main reason that I went to the gym, really. Or the only reason. We’ve been dating for two months now. He works at a bakery in Camden and brings me pastries for lunch every day. He’s so sweet,’ Poe says and Kylo doesn’t miss how dreamy Poe’s eyes have gone. Kylo swears he can almost see the love hearts in them. Over Poe’s shoulder, Kylo catches Hux rolling his eyes.

 

‘He’s far too nice. I don’t trust him,’ Hux mutters bitterly, one sharp hip bumping up against the doorframe as he leans up against it like a lopsided flamingo. All that pink, the one leg thing - Kylo smirks at his own joke, hiding it behind his mug.

 

‘And that’s your problem, Armie,’ Poe singsongs right back, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth that mirrors the corkscrew ones in his hair. Even with their limited interactions, Kylo knows how much Hux hates that nickname. Or any nickname at all. ‘You don’t trust anyone! You’re so stuffy and Victorian, where’s the belief in humanity's essential goodness! You wouldn’t know boyfriend material if he was stood right in front of you.’

 

‘Fuck off. You can keep your essential goodness, Dameron, I’m going for a smoke,’ Hux announces before stomping away in an obvious huff. The effect is somewhat ruined by the pink, fluffy bunny slippers he’s wearing. As the door to what is presumably Hux’s room slams shut with a kind of finality, Kylo feels a weight that he hadn’t realised was pressing down on his chest release. He sucks in a grateful deep breath of air and turns eagerly back towards Poe, who laughs with easy happiness and warmth that Kylo can only envy.

 

They chat about everything and anything. Poe and Hux have a little market stall at Camden Lock, selling Hux’s pottery and paintings and Poe’s jewellery, and Poe is ready with plenty of anecdotes about that - ranging from when someone had tried to steal a tealight holder to howling with laughter over pictures on his phone of a tired and grumpy looking Armitage Hux bundled up behind the stall in the pouring rain. Kylo stares at them for just a beat too long and his laughter is slow to catch up with Poe’s. He’s struck by how soft and sleepy Hux looks; his nose so red that it almost matches his hair. This Hux is different from the one Kylo has met, he looks somehow more delicate and open at the same time as rocking a ferocious scowl.

 

That, Kylo supposes, is the difference between friends and enemies. His heart clenches at the thought. It’s not that he doesn't realise his own part in antagonising Hux right back, but deep down he wishes more than anything that they could be friends. There’s something about Hux sometimes, an expression on Hux’s face that’s gone before anyone else can notice or a silence that is just a bit too deep and cavernous, that makes Kylo think that they’re more similar than either of them would care to admit. And then there’s those pesky feelings that refuse to shrivel up and die already, no matter how many times Hux throws an item of furniture at him (an impressive number really).

 

Just as they’re dancing around the subject of Kylo’s own circumstances - how he’d ended up homeless with nobody but an old gym buddy to turn to, Hux shuffles into the kitchen again rubbing a slim hand along the back of his neck and yawning.  Poe, ever the gracious friend, seems to sense Kylo’s flash of discomfort at his dirty laundry being aired in front of Hux and quickly changes the subject.

 

‘Shit,’ he hisses stretching his legs out beneath the table and checking the bottom of his mug mournfully for any last dregs of tea. His knees knock against Kylo’s and Kylo can’t help the shiver that runs through him, quickly darting his gaze down to his own hands where they’re folded neatly on the table top. How long has it been since someone has touched him so intimately? When was the last time someone had touched him at all except for Poe clapping him on the shoulder in the hall earlier?

 

‘It’s already dark outside!’ Poe laughs suddenly, seeming not to have noticed Kylo’s embarrassment, at least. ‘We talked all afternoon. Shit man, we really needed to catch up huh. Well, how about fish and chips for tea then?’

 

Kylo looks up, biting his lip. Surely Poe knows that he doesn’t have any money, that this was kind of the root of his problem. It’s then that he notices that Hux is staring at him, his pale seafoam green eyes glittering with an emotion that Kylo can’t quite place.

 

But Poe is already sweeping away out of the little kitchen and towards one of the rooms at the end of the hall. Even Hux has drifted after him, Kylo can hear that crisp English accent listing off what must be his order for the chippy.

 

Kylo stays frozen in place. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He clenches his fists, fingernails biting into his palms as the sickly feeling churns in his gut. He can feel that his cheeks must be stained deep red, his skin burning hot but still he tries to stare at the window, projecting as much nonchalance as he can manage. Perhaps Hux and Poe won’t notice and will leave without him. He’s done without before and besides the tea provides at least a little lining to his empty stomach. He will manage, Kylo thinks resolutely, setting his jaw. He always manages on his own.

 

‘Hey, Kylo!’ Poe calls out to him and when Kylo glances up, he sees that Poe is tugging on a huge leopard print fur coat and sliding his feet into a pair of somethings that look more like slippers than shoes. ‘Are you coming, mate? I could use a hand carrying Hux’s ridiculous order back. For such a skinny guy he orders a lot. Or he does when I’m getting it, hmm.’

 

Kylo clenches his jaw even harder, feeling the bones complain. He wants to say no, more than anything, to shrug it off and laugh about how he’s feeling a bit tired really, he’s not hungry at all, maybe he’ll have a shower instead. Save himself the embarrassment later; the remainder of his failure - that he can’t even buy himself some cheap food with his only friend.

 

But Poe’s looking at him so expectantly, brown eyes warm and welcoming as always. It almost hurts to look at him, to look at someone so full of light when Kylo himself is so full of darkness. He wants to shout at him, say something so awful that Poe’s smile will slip from his handsome face and he’ll turn wordlessly and step outside slamming the door behind him. That would be easier. Instead, Kylo hangs his head and nods, getting up and moving over to pull on his shoes robotically.

 

The walk to the chip shop is short, it’s nestled away at the end of the street and Poe chatters happily the entire way, filling the silence. Kylo once again finds himself wondering at how lucky he is to have a friend like Poe. Or a friend at all, truthfully. His hands shake with nervous tremors and he shoves them into his pockets, as he tracks the pavement with his eyes - examining each crack and crevice in the concrete as well as he can while still trying to be discreet, in case a pound happens to have dropped down there.

 

Kylo steps into the warmth still penniless, trying to ignore the grumbles of his stomach at the smell of warm, fried food that weighs down the air inside. He tries his best to lurk behind Poe as Poe steps up to the counter, watching as Poe leans up against it with loose-limbed familiarity.

 

‘Two large chips, two vegetable spring rolls, a portion of onion rings, a portion of chicken nuggets, a fish cake, hmmm,’ Poe lists off dutifully, eyes rooming the menu above the counter. ‘And a can of coke, please. Kylo, what are you having?’ Poe asks, turning to look at Kylo.

 

‘I…,’ he fumbles for his words, fingers clutching at the hem of his t-shirt like a lifeline. He lets his gaze flick up towards the menu for just a moment before he forces it away again, down to the colourful tiled floor. ‘I’m not-’

 

‘Another large chips and a large cod please,’ Poe says, rooting around in his wallet until his hand emerges with a twenty-pound note tucked between his fingertips which he brandishes at the girl behind the counter. She hands him the receipt and his can of coke, motioning for them to take a seat while she gets their food ready.

 

Poe strolls over to the nearest table, flopping down into the flimsy plastic chair with a grateful sigh and starts fiddling with the ring pull on his coke. Kylo follows him nervously, feeling too big as usual. Clumsy and awkward. He sinks down into the chair opposite.

 

‘Poe,’ he mutters, examining the floor tiles again as his heart hammers in his chest. The moment feels heavy, like a turning point. Like Kylo might be homeless again when Poe realises how much he’s mooching off of him. Not even a friend, Kylo reminds himself, a simple gym buddy. ‘I can’t… look I can’t pay you back. Not yet,’ his voice sounds so small and pathetic and Kylo clenches his fist angrily. Why is this so hard, so humiliating. ‘I will though. As soon as everything’s sorted. When I can find a job. I’ll start looking on Monday, I…,’ he trails off, chewing angrily on his lip.

 

‘Hey! It’s fine buddy,’ Poe says, shrugging his shoulders slightly and aiming a finger gun at Kylo. ‘I got this until you got this again, don’t worry.’ It’s cheesy and sentimental and so incredibly Poe. Kylo has to look away for a second, blinking the tears from his eyes.

 

‘Thanks,’ he manages to croak out just as the girl behind the counter emerges with two plastic bags, shouting out Poe’s name.

 

Poe bounds up immediately, taking the bags from her with a quick smile and thank you. He seems to miss the way her cheeks turn a blotchy pink, instead turning back towards Kylo to aim that same smile at him as he holds out one of the bags. Kylo can’t really say that he blames her; Poe is extremely, painfully handsome and his smile could power a small city. But of course, in regular Kylo fashion, he’d instead fallen for Armitage Hux, who was pricklier than a cactus and hated his guts. Of course. It would’ve been so easy with Poe, in comparison. Comfortable. Kylo’s glad that Poe has Finn, he deserves happiness.

 

It’s raining when they step outside onto the street again, fat droplets illuminated by the sepia-toned streetlights. Poe shrieks, breaking into a run that Kylo is sure is going to end in smashed chips and vinegar soaking into Poe’s fur coat. With his long stride Kylo finds that he can keep Poe in sight at least, while still only walking, chips and cod clutched like a new born baby to his chest. His first proper meal in…

 

He’s not quite sure. There was a pizza slice, the last of the food he’d bought with his remaining £5 but that was last week, at least. Before the shit had really hit the fan. A shudder runs through him at the memory and he tries to push the thoughts away, lock them back up in the back of his mind to gather cobwebs. Live in the present and let the past die, he reminds himself.

 

By the time he gets back to the flat, the water has soaked right through his socks so that they squelch uncomfortably in his boots while his hoodie sticks to every contour and curve of his body. He ducks his head, suppressing a shiver. Poe is already sheltering inside the entryway with the door propped open against his foot, peering anxiously out of the door.

 

‘There you are! I was starting to worry,’ Poe laughs sunnily, shooting Kylo a wink so that he knows that Poe’s just joking. Kylo breathes a sigh of relief; he doesn’t need to apologise or feel bad.

 

They clomp up the stairs, grinding the mud Kylo had deposited earlier even further into the fibres of the carpet, Poe mumbling about the state of his hair as he tugs a hand through the flattened strands. Poe complains like only someone who’s truly beautiful can, which is totally unaware that no matter how dishevelled he is, he’s still attractive. Maybe even more so. 

 

Poe unlocks the door, ushering Kylo inside first before stepping in behind him and slamming the door closed with finality. He slides easily passed Kylo, stowing his slides safely back on the rack and padding down the hall. 

 

‘Hux! We’re home!’ Poe shouts, disappearing into the bathroom to drape his sodden coat over the shower cubicle.

 

Hux’s head appears immediately, poking out from around the left hand the bedroom door, blinking owlishly. Even from a distance, Kylo can see that Hux’s customary frown is still in place. He turns back to his own shoes, peeling them off cautiously as if they’re about to spill an ocean onto the cream carpet.

 

Kylo’s just wrestled his shoes off, unsure of where to put them when he hears the rattle of a door closing and the pad of slippers down the hallway towards him. Hux has changed out of the dark skinny jeans into a pair of sleep shorts that Kylo can only just catch a glimpse of, peeking out from beneath the hem of Hux’s enormous jumper. Which means his legs, long and pale and slim, are very on show and shit Kylo has to force his gaze away after a long moment, his mouth going dry.

 

‘Don’t just stand there dripping on MY carpet, Ren!’ Hux squawks, looking a bit like an angry red Robin with its plumage puffed up, to make its chest look big and threatening. Hux flaps his arms at Kylo, and Kylo tracks the angry blush that’s blooming over his cheekbones. ‘You’re getting water everywhere! Poe why are you letting him just stand here like this! Get him so dry clothes. My carpet,’ Hux wails as he turns towards the bathroom where Poe is peeling off his wet clothes in full view of both of them.

 

Kylo acts without thinking, grabbing one corner of his hoodie and flicking it towards Hux. It’s not that much water to be fair, only a handful of droplets but they hit Hux square in the face even as he flinches back at the last second, eyes screwed shut.

 

‘What,’ Hux’s voice is quiet and dangerous as he blinks his eyes open again, swiping at the water that’s splattered across his cheeks with the back of his hand. Kylo swallows. ‘What. The. Fuck.’

 

Poe’s burst of laughter is a welcome distraction. Hux turns his fury at Poe instead, whipping his head around to shoot Poe a glare.

 

‘I should kick you out with him. Bloody ingrate,’ Hux says with a snarl, punctuating his words with an elbow jabbed in Kylo’s general direction. ‘Better off alone…,’ he mumbles, swiping up the two bags of takeaway and stomping off into the kitchen with them. And honestly, Kylo was expecting much worse than that; he’s pretty sure he’s escaped lightly.

 

‘Kylo,’ Poe says after a beat, seeming to have recovered from his attack of laughter. ‘Do you have any…,’ he seems to think carefully about what to say but after a moment Poe instead tips his head towards Kylo’s backpack, that’s still propped up next to the door. Kylo’s heart rate picks up and his hands move without thinking, to rub nervously along the back of his neck.

 

Kylo’s silence seems to tell Poe all he needs to know. Poe tilts his head towards the door Hux had come from, beckoning Kylo to follow him. Kylo breathes a sigh of relief and follows Poe inside, slightly curious about what he’ll find.

 

The room is tiny and most worryingly doesn’t even have a window. Most of the space that isn’t taken up by the bed is covered by a wardrobe and a clothing rail. It’s simple but tidy, with a distinct lack of personality except for the brightly coloured clothes lined up along the rack. There are no pictures up on the wall, no little knick-knacks hidden away in corners. Just a bed with plain cream sheets.

 

‘Is this your room?’ Kylo asks, just as something to fill the silence. He feels even more oversized and out of place than usual in such a tiny, cramped space. Added to which he’s hyper-aware of the slow drip of water dropping onto the carpet from his jeans.

 

Poe snorts as he pulls a flannel and pair of sweatpants down from the rack. ‘These might fit you, they’re a bit big on me,’ Poe says holding out the clothes to Kylo. Kylo takes them gratefully, shuffling what little distance he can manage to, away and starts stripping off his wet clothes, careful to keep them all in one place.

 

‘No, this is Hux’s room,’ Poe replies, kindly turning his back to give Kylo some privacy.

 

Kylo’s mind works slowly on that piece of information, his mouth working before he can think about it too much. ‘Then why are your clothes in here?’ He pulls the sweatpants, glad to find that they do actually fit over his wide thighs and generous hips. They’re a little short, ending just before his ankles, but Kylo can work with it.

 

‘There’s no room in the kitchen and I don’t want all of my stuff to smell like paint,’ Poe says and Kylo notices that his shoulders visibly deflate. ‘Sorry Kylo, I really should’ve explained everything buddy but… I knew you really needed a place to stay and if I had told you everything you wouldn’t have come. I couldn’t let you stay out there,’ Poe says, turning around now that Kylo is dressed again. His eyes are bright with tears.

 

‘We use the other bedroom as a studio. Working down at the cooperative wasn’t… working out for us. Now I just take Hux’s work and a few of my pieces down there to be fired. Hux sleepwalks so he has to have a room with a lock, I wouldn’t want him anywhere near anything dangerous when he’s like that,’ Poe says with a shudder. ‘I sleep out in the kitchen. The armchair folds out into a bed. It’s very glamorous,’ he says self-deprecating as he winks at Kylo. Kylo notices the dark circles under his eyes but says nothing.

 

Kylo’s brain works over this information slowly. ‘So where will I-...’

 

‘Hurry up! The foods going cold,’ even through the wall, Hux’s voice is loud and full of obvious annoyance. Kylo finds himself jumping to attention and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Poe do the same.

 

They bundle out of the door and the few steps down the hallway to the kitchen, where Hux is standing at the counter surrounded by three plates that are piled high with food. His arms are crossed over his chest and his slipper covered foot tapping irritably against the lino. Hux’s gaze shifts over to Kylo as soon as he steps through the doorway, moving down his body in a way that leaves Kylo feeling exposed.

 

All he needs to top today off is for Hux to laugh at him.

 

‘Let's have a picnic!’ Poe announces with a flourish, interrupting the moment. Poe whisks his own plate out into the hall where he flops down onto the carpet, back pressed up against the door. Hux follows with a sigh and Kylo supposes he should join them. He’s bigger than the other two, so folding himself into such a tight space is more difficult for him especially in these borrowed clothes that are edging on being too tight.

 

The eat in near silence for a few minutes until Poe throws down his phone in the centre of the floor, a Velvet Underground song that he slowly sways his shoulders to as he shovels soggy chips into his mouth. Kylo tries to keep pace with the others, chewing every bite before he swallows it, but his hunger is so ravenous that he soon gives up on that. His plate is set down empty next to him before Hux has even finished investigating his onion rings. Poe really hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that Hux ate a lot; he’s alternating between bites of fish cake, chicken nuggets, onion rings and chips all while shooing away the interested faces of the cats with practiced ease. Poe must decide that picnics on the floor are a good idea a lot.

 

‘Delilah, Romeo, Miko, BB! Stay away from there!’ Poe clucks at them, as if this will do any good still swaying to the music, his eyes half closed as he takes a bite of his remaining spring roll.

‘Poe,’ Kylo says, feeling a little more like himself now that he’s had some food. ‘What were you talking about earlier? About the rooms?’

 

Poe drops the remainder of his spring roll back onto his plate as if he’s been burnt, his smile turning strained and a little wrinkle forming between his brows.

 

‘Oh yeah, about that,’ he fumbles. Even Hux seems to be paying attention now, holding a nugget delicately in his hand as he pets Millicent with the other while watching Poe with sharp eyes. ‘Hux! How do you feel about Kylo sharing your room? Just for a little while.’

 

‘He’s not,’ Hux says bluntly, turning his gaze back down to his plate as if to signal the end of the discussion. It’s stupid but Kylo can’t help the little clench or his heart at that. It’s not personal, Hux just wants his own space Kylo tries to convince himself. Judging from their previous interactions, it’s most likely very personal but he chooses to ignore that. Fucking useless unrequited feelings.

 

‘Hux, come on buddy,’ Poe pleads.

 

‘Don’t buddy me, Dameron. And put those eyelashes away, they only work on your boyfriend and you know it.’

 

‘But we only have two beds!’ Poe shouts, throwing his arms up.

 

‘Fine, I’ll sleep out in the kitchen. You can share with Kylo,’ Hux snarls, managing to project his anger even while popping a chip into his mouth.

 

‘But Hux you can’t. The sleepwalking,’ Poe replies as he waves his arms even more wildly. Kylo is starting to get worried that he might get slapped if Poe starts flailing any more than he already is.

 

‘Fine, then you sleep with me. Ren can have the kitchen.’

 

‘But he won’t fit. I barely fit and he’s, like, huge!’ Again, Poe demonstrates by flinging his arms around. Kylo ducks.

 

‘Fine, fine! I’ll take the kitchen and you- ‘

 

‘Hux we’ve been over this! You have to have that room pal! Look I’m sorry, but it’ll only be for a short time, right Kylo? Once he can get a job, he’ll be able to get his own place, right Kylo? I couldn’t just leave him out on the street Hux!’ Poe says, his voice shaking and his eyes shiny with tears.

 

‘He can’t stay with me! He can’t!’ Hux screams, slamming his plate down onto the floor as he scrambles to his feet. It’s chaos - chips and nuggets and onion rings go flying, immediately descended upon by the five waiting cats who pounce like they haven’t been fed in weeks.

 

Hux turns on his heel and Kylo has never seen someone in hot pink bunny slippers look so threatening. But Kylo also catches sight of the shine of tears in Hux’s eyes that he’s not quite able to hide before he storms off down the hall, slamming his bedroom door closed behind him with such force that it seems to rattle through the entire flat.

 

‘I’m sorry Kylo,’ Poe says quietly, avoiding meeting Kylo’s eyes as he leans forward to shoo away the cats and gather up Hux’s discarded plate.

 

‘Yeah,’ Kylo replies angrily before he can stop himself. Poe’s face immediately falls and Kylo feels an instant stab of regret. ‘I’ll work it out Poe, don’t worry,’ he says, trying to force his voice in a gentle tone for Poe’s sake. He’s pretty sure he’s going to end up sleeping on the kitchen floor but Poe’s already upset enough. And contrary to popular belief, Kylo doesn’t actually like hurting the people he loves, it just kind of happens; he’s too blunt, too honest, too unaware and suddenly they’re crying or worse, shouting at him. But he never means to do it.

 

‘Sure buddy,’ Poe says, scooping up Kylo’s empty plate along with the other two. ‘Well, I’m going to bed. I’m sorry.’ He looks tired, Kylo realises, under the unforgiving yellow lights of the flat - in the downturn of his mouth and the circles under his eyes, how each blink seems to last longer than the last.

 

‘Good night,’ Kylo mumbles, itching at his arm to try and dispel the irritation still gnawing away beneath his skin. Hux treating him like he’s some kind of… infection, like the very thought of sharing a bed with Kylo is beyond disgusting to him.

 

He slips into the bathroom, eager to take a shower. For a few seconds, he contemplates using one of Hux’s towels, each with a name tag that looks like it’s been handsewn in place, just to see the look on his face. But Kylo doesn’t actually want to be kicked out. Instead, he reaches for one of Poe’s that are stacked in an artistically messy heap on top of the cabinet, before starting up the water.

 

The first few moments that he steps underneath the warm spray are heavenly; Kylo can’t help the groan that slips from his lips as he feels the water washing away the grime that has been building up over his hair and skin. But soon his thoughts turn back to Hux and Kylo’s chest begins to ache again, as if there’s a hollowness behind his ribcage. It’s not like he’s so desperate for Hux’s approval, Hux’s love and affection. But Hux’s disgust is too much to bear, Kylo almost wants to crash on the floor of their studio room - just so he can avoid confronting either Hux or Poe. However, if it is their art room then Kylo’s not sure that he could stomach the stench of paint fumes that must linger in there.

 

He has to face this, but it had seemed a lot easier to do when he was in the warm safety of the shower instead of stood nervously outside the door in question. He shifts from foot to foot, hair still the slightest bit damp, raising his hand to knock before dropping it back down to his side again.

 

‘I can hear you thinking Ren. Just come in,’ Hux’s voice cuts through the silence, making Kylo jump. He doesn’t sound angry though and so with shaking hands, Kylo reaches for the door handle and opens it.

 

The room is bathed in warm orange light from a small bedside lamp, while Hux himself sits propped up in bed - a novel in one hand, the other threaded through the ginger fur of one of the cats.

 

Kylo has always believed that someone’s bedroom tells you a lot about them. Like a tapestry where every thread makes up the whole. His old room (he doesn’t dare to think of the words ‘at home’) had been a mess; posters half torn down from the walls, clothes strewn all over the floor, the mattress removed from the bed frame and thrown into a corner to make a den. The only form of order was at his little desk, where his prized calligraphy set sat. It had practically screamed confusion and anger and sadness and yet nobody had bothered to listen.

 

Hux’s room is empty, the only points of colour are Poe’s clothes hanging on the rail. And for the first time Kylo sympathises with Han and Leia - wondering what this means, what to make of it all. He knows how to read clutter but this emptiness is impenetrable.

 

‘What’s her name?’ Kylo asks awkwardly, trying to fill the emptiness. He realises after he’s said it that he and Hux have never really talked. Argued, screamed at each other sure. But they’ve never had a normal conversation, never commented on the weather, never asked each other how their day was. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the tightness in his chest.

 

‘Millicent,’ Hux replies as he peers over his book and across the tiny room at Kylo. Hux has such a strange look on his face that Kylo wonders if he’s having the same realisation.

 

‘Is she your cat?’ Kylo can’t help but ask, still standing awkwardly in the corner of the room. Now that he’s started, he can’t quite seem to stop, he wants to unfurl all of Hux’s secrets, hold them up to the light and watch them gleam like he’s seen the scientists in Jurassic Park do with the mosquito. Or well, more romantic than that.

 

‘Oh yes, she’s not like one of those strays Poe brings in. She’s my cat. My Millie,’ Hux explains, pressing a closed mouth kiss to the crown of an unimpressed Millicent’s head before levelling a glare at Kylo that dares him to comment on it. ‘She’s not like them at all, not some dirty stray. She’s my princess, aren’t you darling?’ He says the last part in a false, high pitched coo aimed at Millicent, stroking a bony hand down across her spine.

 

The swell of anger that he feels takes Kylo by surprise. He’s already strangely protective over those cats, he supposes. He feels a strange kind of kinship towards them, shared experience. They were homeless too, hungry and flea-bitten, roaming the streets alone before Poe Dameron has swept them up under his wing. The only difference between them, Kylo supposes, is that the cats can lick their own balls and Kylo’s never been flexible enough to even experiment with something like that. He wishes.

 

‘I couldn’t tell the difference,’ he says through gritted teeth, cheered up a bit by the way Hux’s eyes flash with anger.

 

‘Are you going to get into bed Ren or just stand there insulting me?’ Hux says, making a big show of rolling his eyes.

 

Kylo takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. This is it. The moment. He takes a step towards the bed and then another, crossing the tiny room quickly. And then, before he can really think about it, he’s peeling back the covers and sliding underneath.

 

The warmth is welcoming and the mattress is soft against his back, but suddenly as he lays down Kylo feels every inch of himself with complete clarity. Too tall, too wide, too clumsy and awkward next to Hux’s slim form. Those few inches that separate them, bringing Hux’s head to somewhere around Kylo’s chin, might as well be light years for the difference Kylo feels between them.

 

Hux yawns, shifting slightly so that his back is facing Kylo and then goes still as if he’s already fallen asleep. Kylo lets his own eyes slip closed in the darkness but despite how tired he feels, so much that his limbs feel weighed down, sleep doesn’t come to him. He’s too hyper-aware of every sleepy movement Hux makes, every small sound and intake of breath hits Kylo in his chest. He and Hux have barely shared a conversation and still, that was enough for Kylo to get feelings for him, so he barely knows what to feel now that he’s climbing into bed with Hux.

 

He imagines rolling over and snaking an arm around Hux’s waist, breathing in the scent of shampoo that now matched his own. He imagines Hux sighing and leaning into Kylo’s touch, warm and content. Kylo tries to push those thoughts away as his chest aches with want - not even the want to fuck Hux, to claim him. All he wants if for Hux to feel warm and safe and loved, and that hurts the most. He picks over the thoughts, mind going around in circles as the night crawls passed.

 

He must fall at sleep at some point, though. It feels like just a long blink but it can’t be because when he forces his eyes open again the room is bathed in the warm orange light of dawn. It’s quiet, the silence only broken by the soft birdsongs and the odd car creeping passed on the road outside.

 

Kylo’s daydreaming, feeling his mind slow to a gentle hum as he slips back towards sleep. He’s almost there, his mind is going fuzzy around the edges. Out of nowhere, Hux who still seems to be asleep twists suddenly, jolting Kylo back awake. Hux’s hands fisted in the duvet and groans pouring from his lips and Kylo goes very still, the sound of his own blood rushing filling his ears as he feels his cheeks flush hotly with a blush that must be hidden in the half-light. Oh, he thinks slowly, Hux is having one of those dreams…

 

He’s stuck between risking getting up, which might also wake Hux, or staying where he is and pretending to be asleep, feeling like a pervert. The decision, however, is quickly made for him as Hux’s groans turn into screams. They’re quiet and choked as if he’s drowning, but still very much screams. Kylo is frozen, heart racing. He knows distantly that he should do something but he can’t get his limbs to cooperate, as if he’s moving in slow motion. The space between them seems insurmountable, forbidden. Kylo’s heart aches with the need to touch Hux (to soothe him, to try and help) and the notion that he can’t – emotions too raw, too personal. Besides, Hux had seemed revolted at the thought of being so close to Kylo. Kylo dreads to think what he might feel about Kylo touching him again. He has his mind made up, to let Hux ride this out. To not risk anything, to ruin what fragile peace they seem to have found. Hux’s apathy is better than Hux’s hatred, any day; Kylo’s not sure that he could bear it.

 

Then Hux wails again, louder. Like a wounded animal.

 

‘Hey, Hux. Hey,’ he says finally, putting a hand tentatively on Hux’s shoulder. Hux shakes so violently that Kylo’s hand is knocked free. Kylo swallows, hovering tentatively a few inches away as he tries to remember what his mother had done when he’d had one of his tantrums when he was a child.

 

‘No, no, no, no!’ Hux mumbles, kicking out his legs as if he’s trying to get away from something. His feet catch Kylo right in the widest part of his thigh and he hisses, pain blossoming beneath his skin. Hux certainly wasn’t pulling any punches.

 

‘Hey, hey, Hux,’ he tries again, managing to catch Hux’s wrists. At the sound of his own name, Hux freezes and Kylo tracks the tear that spills from the corner of his eye, rolling down his flushed cheek. This is worrying in itself, but Kylo is just glad that he isn’t tearing the bed and Kylo apart.

 

He moves slowly, as he remembers his mother doing, stroking his hands up Hux’s arm until he loosens his grip on the duvet. He’s careful to let Hux have every opportunity to move away as he slides up gently behind Hux until Hux’s back is pressed up against his chest.

 

‘Until you’re spooning him,’ his brain helpfully supplies but he elects to ignore it. Crush or not, all he wants to do is provide some simple comfort. Seeing Hux so obviously afraid and upset, even if he’s only dreaming, has awakened something inside of Kylo. Memories that he’d pushed to the back of his mind bubbling up to the surface.

 

Hux’s nightmare, or whatever it was, seems to have passed with Kylo’s arms around him. His breathing is steady and Kylo finds himself following along. In, out, in, out like a slow drumbeat. His eyelids start to droop and he doesn’t have the energy to stop them, snuggling further towards Hux’s warmth.

 

Kylo’s troubles and his questions can wait for the morning.


End file.
